


Mending At The Seams

by Hobo0utsider



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Mystery, Riverdale, Scooby dooby doo mystery machine type shit, bughead - Freeform, too many people in this town, yeah okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-06 12:39:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11600850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobo0utsider/pseuds/Hobo0utsider
Summary: Some secrets are meant to stay buried. But when Betty Cooper arrives back in Riverdale after leaving under harsh and punishing circumstances, secrets begin to break at the seams. There are things she should tell Jughead Jones, but she can't lose him a second time...unless he finds out...then what? She can only fight to right her wrongs. Bughead/ongoing.





	1. Return To Familiarity

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic for this fandom. I hope you like it, and I hope to get the next part up soon. Thank you so much!

Betty Cooper pulled up her collar at the slight breeze drifting across the familiar square, rustling her ponytail and pressing around her slim form, but her hands were not cold; they were sleekly stuffed into her puff jacket pockets, her right hand holding on tightly to the opportunity that brought her back to Riverdale.

She felt its jagged edges against the sensitive skin of her palm, and felt that same familiar feeling of jagged edges when she thought of the years she’d spent away from Riverdale – the reasons behind her departure. It jabbed her like the key now indenting itself into her flesh.

“Get it together, Betty Cooper,” she whispered to herself, shaking her head and sighing. “This is a huge chance to prove yourself.” She pulled the key from inside her pocket and held it up as if to inspect it. “You’ve got this.”

She reached out, slid the key into the lock and stilled her hand from turning it and flinging the door open. Instead, she stepped back a few steps and looked at the glass doors, those of which brought back memories. Not great ones, not fond ones, but memories nonetheless. 

The Register used to be a prestigious point of information and gossip for the town of Riverdale, but –as with a lot of small town papers—had become useless thanks to the world wide web and cell phone devices. Well, that is what her parents had told her when they had suddenly decided to give her the business. For Betty, it was more that nobody wanted to read the doom and gloom of yesterday, and the utterly boring events of today. People craved drama and excitement; none of which The Register gave anymore. Perhaps that is why her parents decided to end their relationship with the troubled paper—there wasn’t enough business for them to stick their nose in.

“They said you were back in town,” a familiar voice called from behind her, startling her. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?”

She wheeled herself around hastily, facing an older version of the reason she left. He still had windswept black hair that slicked to one side, a curl resting in the middle of his forehead. His attire also looked quite the same from the last time she saw him: suspenders hanging down on either side of his dark denim jeans, and a black V-neck sweater over a white t-shirt. He looked like he had grown an inch or two, but she wasn’t sure if that was the dusk casting illusions or not. The last thing she noticed that was the same was the large smile from ear-to-ear. It was a vast difference from the night she left town—left him standing there watching her go, fading into what would be a three-year absence.

“Jughead,” she said, a lump forming in her throat. “Hi.” She swallowed the lump and cleared her throat. She took a step closer to him and smiled. “You look great!” Betty wasn’t anything if she wasn’t polite—though the pain ripping through her chest just looking at him ran through her veins like acid.

“As do you,” he replied, reaching out a slim hand to pull the tip of her ponytail. “Welcome back, Betty Cooper.” He dropped his hand from her hair and placed it on her shoulder. “I’ve actually come to see if you needed some help.” He nodded toward the only car on the street—her small sedan filled with boxes and belongings. 

“I—” she started.

“You can pay me with food like you used to,” he told her with a wink, cutting her off, “if that’s the problem.” He let go of her shoulder, placing it at his side.

She backed up a few steps, allowing the smile to tumble from her lips as she placed her hands back in her pockets. Her eyes closed for only a few seconds, enough to gather her composure and shake off the feeling of his fingertips brushing against her shoulder. When she opened them, Jughead was already opening her car door and lifting a box into his arms.

“I guess if I told you to put that down, you wouldn’t listen?” The smile was back.

“You don’t want me to break your…” he looked at the label on the top of the box, “books.” He snorted. “Why am I not surprised that’s what I’m lugging around?”

She led him to the door and opened it for him without a reply. She wouldn’t tell him that almost all the boxes in her car were books. The studious side of her didn’t vacate after she left; if anything, it ramped up. She followed him into the small office filled with computers and desks. The smell of dust and cobwebs almost made her cough as she pointed to one of the desks closest to Jughead.

"On there, Juggie,” she said, her index finger pointing where to place the box. “The small apartment in the back needs to sorted out.”

He sat the box down and turned to her. “There’s an apartment in here?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “The things you find out.”

“Dad used to use it when mom was angry at him,” she explained. “Anyway,” she said, shaking her head and hurrying on, “you don’t need to help with the boxes, Jug. I’m perfectly capable of bringing them in myself.” 

The look on Jughead’s face nearly broke her. He looked hurt and taken aback by her perceived pushiness to get rid of him. And, in a twisted way, he wasn’t wrong in that. It was still painful for her, even after three years. For him, he seemed okay with it all – almost like he knew she’d come back one day. Maybe he was biding his time, or he was just hoping she'd reappear. Or, maybe the guilt she felt was exactly what he was feeling. Juggie always did have this way of folding inside himself. Often masking hurt and pain so it didn’t make him vulnerable. She always could sense, though, his vulnerability, tried to nurture him into opening up.

He was silent for a minute, his eyes searching hers with such intensity that she almost looked away. He sighed and nodded his head at her in understanding. The smile he gave her now was only a shadow of the one he had there earlier—this one did not quite reach his eyes.

“Okay,” he replied softly, “I’ll leave you to it, then, Betts.”

She only let him step a few paces before—without a conscious thought—her hand shot out and gripped his wrist. She didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but it was too late to do anything about it. “Thank you, Juggie. Seems like you’re the only one who cares I came back.”

She felt his other hand pat her knuckles. “They care,” he assured her. “They’ll come around, I promise.” 

“You did  
“We were young, then, Betts. We did things that our older selves would cringe at. You can’t expect them to open their arms to you. Not after…” he trailed off.

“Yeah, well,” she responded with a sigh, “I’ve hurt you the most and here you are.” She laughed irreverently. “Taking boxes from my car like I’ve done nothing.” She looked down in shame.

The move was so unexpected that she had no time to react. His hand was up at her chin, tilting her head so her eyes kept contact with his. She shivered involuntarily at the warmth of his fingertips resting on her flesh. Not a cool shiver, but a hot flash driving down her spine like fire. The touch was so familiar, yet so strange after not feeling it for so long.

“Hey! Betty Cooper! You know how they say time heals all wounds?” 

“That’s a stupid cliché, Jug. Some wounds cut too deep to heal properly.”

“Yes, that’s true. Dumb cliché, but time is like a scab, you know? It covers the wounds. Just don’t pick at it too much.” When she didn’t reply, he added, “Okay?”

“Okay,” she breathed.

She watched his eyes flicker to her full, rosy lips before he let her chin go and turned from her. She wrestled with herself for a few seconds before she sighed. “Jug, wait!” She watched him turn to face her. “Since you did bring in…a box,” she thumbed at the desk where it sat, “how about I treat you to Pop’s? It is still in business, isn’t it?”

His smile was blinding this time.

“It is,” he replied. “I own it.” The shock must have registered on her face because he laughed. “Oh, Betts. A lot has changed since you left. A lot.”

Some, as she’d find out soon enough, wasn’t exactly for the best. For now, though, the problems she and Jughead had faced were behind them.

Betty Cooper once again pulled up her collar at the slight breeze. This time, her hands were being warmed by Jughead’s Sherpa jacket as they walked to Pop’s fifteen minutes later.


	2. One Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty finds out that returning to town isn't going to go smoothly, and her attempt at lashing out at Jughead backfires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only my first Bughead fanfiction. I apologize for any mistakes. Next chapter we are going to go back 3 years and find out what is haunting Betty and why her friends have a bone to pick with her.

Jughead wiped burger from his chin and smiled. It was nice to see her after those years apart. Sure, there was a deep part of him that resented her for leaving him so abruptly and without a proper explanation, but that was buried so far down beneath the giddiness and happiness that she was back, that he wouldn’t have been able to find it in the darkest parts of himself without digging for it.

“I guess it shouldn’t be a shock that you own Pop’s,” Betty said, taking a small sip of her strawberry milkshake. “Have you owned it long?”

He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table. Sighing deeply, he cocked his eyebrows at her and watched as a confused smile crossed her fragile features. He knew she wanted him to explain his strange look, but he just wanted a moment or two to trace the outline of her face; a face he once touched and caressed in between the palms of his hands and knew almost every imperfection (if one could call them that) under his fingertips. He wanted to take in her full lips that no doubt tasted of strawberry shake, and gaze at the column of her neck that floated into her pink shirt.

“A year,” he finally replied, his eyes boring into hers like two hot suns. “Pop died about a year ago. He didn’t have any family, so…” he trailed off. “He passed it on to me.”

“You practically lived here,” she said with a laugh. “We all did.” That was more a whisper.

“Yeah, well, it hasn’t been an easy few years to say the least.” He picked up a loose French fry from his plate and popped it in his mouth. “You’d agree, wouldn’t you, Betts?”

“That’s not fair,” she responded quickly. “And here I thought you weren’t going to make me feel guilty.”

He pushed his plate away and sat back in the booth. “That isn’t my intention, Betty. I am just stating direct facts. Anyway,” he went on with an exhale, “let’s talk about what you’ve been up to.”

She was spared from answering him by the door of Pop’s opening widely, ringing the familiar sounding bell above the door. He groaned internally as her eyes shifted passed him, her lips curving downward in a semi-frown. He was pretty sure he could name the distraction without looking behind him.

“Betty Cooper,” the voice said, “as I live and breathe.” Cheryl Blossom came closer, her shoes clicking on the worn floor of the diner. She stopped just short of their booth. “I guess you can’t discard crazy.”

“Cheryl…” Jughead warned. He didn’t bother to turn to the red-haired troublemaker. That was what she wanted. Instead he shook his head at Betty. “Remember when I said things have changed? Well, I didn’t mean Cheryl.” He sighed and shook his head.

“Don’t be so dramatic, hobo,” she told him, finally forcing herself to stand in front of their booth, where she quickly pushed Jughead aside and sat across from Betty, her eyes on Jughead. “It’s an awful look on you.”

“You do know you are in my establishment, right?” Jughead rolled his eyes at the fair-skinned woman. “What are you doing here?”

Cheryl’s eyes swing to Betty’s, a slow, methodical smile spreading across her insipid face. “God’s work, Jugbrain.”

“Good thing this isn’t a church,” Jughead said under his breath, “or it would be on fire right now.”

Cheryl ignored this jab. Her focus was on the blonde-haired girl in front of her, the one that ruined so much of her life – so much of everyone’s life—and then took off as if nothing happened.

“Someone said you were back in this drab town, but I just had to see for myself.” She pushed her long, red locks from her eyes and tilted her head.

She looked nearly the same from when Betty left. The red hair still prominent as always, and her slim figure still served her well in her jeans. Even her complexion looked the same—as if she hadn’t gotten any sun for the last decade. What did strike Betty as different—if you could call it that—was that Cheryl no longer wore her designer labels or dragged around a Prada purse on her skinny arm. Those days, as Betty already knew, were long over.

“Here I am,” Betty told her, crossing her arms on the table in front of her. “The rumors are true.” She’s still a nosey gossiper, Betty thought, that didn’t change, either.

Cheryl smiled wider. “I was sure you’d never show your face back in Riverdale. Color me surprised.”

“It’s a free country, Cheryl,” Jughead interjected. “Leave her alone.”

“Great comeback, Jugs.” She rolled her eyes. “My mother sends her regards, Betty. Be sure to tell your horrid mother that, will you?”

Betty said nothing as she watched Cheryl swing from the booth and disappear down at the far end of the diner. What could she say? What could possibly make what happened years ago better? There was nothing that she could think of off the top of her head that would ever suffice for the pain she had caused. Well, the whole Cooper clan had caused. At least that was one grudge-holder down.

“Ah, don’t worry about her, Betts,” Jughead said from somewhere in front of her. “She just likes getting under your skin.”

Betty looked at him, finally. “Where’s your cap, Jug?” she asked suddenly, noticing for the first time it wasn’t on his slick hair. Her mouth turned into a deep frown.

Jughead’s hand shot to the top of his head, where he patted the spot his cap used to rest. He looked at her face and sighed, setting himself right in front of her and placing his arms on the table.

“I have it, but I don’t wear it anymore,” he told her honestly, finding a very fascinating mustard stain to pick at. “You know, for the longest time that damn cap was on my head because it was one of two things in this world I could count on. Dad, Archie…” he trailed off as his eyes lifted to meet hers. “They couldn’t be counted on.”

“I’m not following.”

He chuckled at that. “Yeah, I know. When I put my cap on, Betty, I knew it would be there at the end of the night. I knew it would be there in the morning,” he shrugged, “waiting for me to put it on again. It was my dependent.” 

“So why are you not wearing it?” She was confused.

“Well, Betts,” he said with another heavy sigh, “the other thing I could count on left me out of the blue, so what use was trusting in things that I found a home in? That I counted on being there for me?”

“That’s—,” she started, but was abruptly cut off by the sound of the bell over the door ringing once again.

Veronica Lodge walked in and took whatever she was about to reply with from her brain. Out of all the people in Riverdale that held a grudge with her, Veronica had to hold the biggest one.   
And she should.

“I guess my presence back here spread,” she said under her breath. 

Instead of Veronica coming straight for her as she expected, she went to the left and through the double doors that led to the back of the diner. She didn’t need to be an expert to know that she was back there for one reason.

“You hired her to work here?” Betty exclaimed, turning to face Jughead, who had a nice shade of crimson covering his cheeks. “I thought—you know what? Never mind,” she said, shaking her head and holding up a palm to quiet him. “I’ve got to go.” Betty raised herself from the booth and pushed a slim hand into her pocket, producing a five-dollar bill and throwing it on the counter. “For the milkshake.”

As she turned, Jughead pushed out a hand and grasped her elbow, turning her quickly to face him. She gasped at how close his face was, the crimson gone from his cheeks. “What was I supposed to do, Betty? I needed the help.”

She pulled her arm from his grasp and tilted her head at him. “After what she did to me? To you?”

Jughead put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. “Isn’t reconciling with everyone kind of why you came back, Betty? I mean, sure, you have the Register now, but deep down, you also came back because you did an equally terrible thing to them and feel guilty.” He blew out a breath.

She shifted her eyes downward, a sign Jughead knew well. She had been called out, but sweet, stubborn Betty would never admit it aloud, but her words earlier about everyone nobody caring that she came back haunted her. Of course, she was feeling guilty. However, seeing both Cheryl and Veronica in the span of five minutes pissed her off, too. As horrible as it was to see what she did to Cheryl and Veronica, it also gave her a deep sense of satisfaction. She knew it was the darker part of her, though; the not-so-innocent version of herself she reserved for moments she suffered the most.

“How can you forget so easily, Jug?” It was a mere whisper.

“I don’t, Betts,” he admitted, “but I’ve been beaten down so much already in my life that the scars of people who do me wrong heal before I can even blink. You have a pure soul, too, Betty. You might find it if you look for it. You’re going to need it if you are going to live in this town again.”

Her eyes rose to meet his, and she saw the boy she left standing alone at the edge of town as she drove away. She could see now how much her leaving had consequences. Yet, he was still here for her. She bit her lower lip and exhaled sharply.

“This was a bad idea,” she replied, turning from Jughead and stepping a few steps before turning back to him. “I shouldn’t have come back.”  
Jughead watched her as she turned once more and headed toward the front of the diner. He was surprised when she did not go through the exit as he thought she would. Instead, she made a left and turned to the back of the diner where Veronica had gone.

“Uh oh,” he said under his breath as he walked quickly toward where Betty had just disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading.


End file.
